“What, you don’t like it?”
“I’ve seen better.” I glance back at him, only to be met with that smirk of his. The one I thought about late at night, when my hands found their way into my panties.
“Really? Is that why you were here every night for the past four nights?” His expression changes as soon as the words exit his mouth, but it’s too late. He spoke too much.
I inhale a confident breath, desperate to get back in command. “Keeping tabs on me?”
“It’s my job,” he grits out, but my face has already formed into a smile.
I pat a finger on my chin. “I thought you were the owner. Have I misheard you being a security guy?”
“I’ve had staffing issues… and I had to do some surveillance myself.”
We both know it’s bullshit. My lips turn up even higher, andhe looks almost nervous. Before I know it, he places a hand on my upper arm and leads me toward the bar. The sudden movement against my will makes chills creep up my spine.
“A cranberry vodka and a rakia,” he says to the bartender, and the unease eases. Leon’s nothim.
Not that I know Leon, but he’s nothim.This has been beyond reckless, hooking up with someone when I’m pretty much forced to be here. He’s the freaking owner of the place. I’ve been coming here fordays, trying to find some intel on where Sophie could be, and I’ve learned jack shit. Leon might know something, but he’s also the most dangerous person to ask. If he figures out I’m up to something, he might think I’m involved with something shady and one thing casino guys don’t like is shady shit. And cheating.
The bartender places our drinks in front of us, and I take a long sip of it, hoping to find some courage.
“You’re the real deal, aren’t you? A professional poker player?” he asks.
I huff out a breath. “I’m nowhere close to being a professional.”
“Well, Johnny seems to think you could be.”
“I guess we’ll never know.” I shrug again, trying to play it off.
“Why not?”
“Sorry, am I being detained by the casino police? And forced to take part in this interrogation?” I bite out, done with the conversation.
Being a poker player was a dream, once. One that can never become true. No, the best I can do is to be a shadow, moving from place to place, leaving as soon as people start whispering about me.
Leon lifts his hands in surrender. “You’re right. None of my business. Let’s just enjoy our drink.”
He taps his glass to mine, and I take a sip, a silent agreement to his words.
I’m the one to break the silence. “If I knew I’d run into you, I would’ve brought your jacket.”
He chuckles under his breath. “It’s okay. Keep it.”
“It’s an expensive jacket.”
“I can afford it.” His eyes trail the place. He probably also owns the entire franchise of Petrovic casinos.
“How lucky you must be.”
Once again, his low chuckle rumbles in my ears. “Judging by the amount of money you’ve cashed in the few days here, I’d hardly say you’re strapped for cash.”
He’s right. Money is not a problem for me. Safety is. “I guess you’re right. Next drink’s on me, then.”
He flashes me a smile, motioning to the bartender to bring us another round. “You’re from Vegas?”
I almost choke on a sip of my drink. “Sort of.” It’s a lame answer, but it’s the best I can say without revealing too much information.
He studies me for a second, and my breath catches in my throat. “What brings you to our humble city?”
